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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24530761">And in the heat we found a home</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/poeticeclipse/pseuds/poeticeclipse'>poeticeclipse</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Office (US)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Hurt/Comfort, Non-Sexual Age Play, sweet and tender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:47:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,955</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24530761</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/poeticeclipse/pseuds/poeticeclipse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After a traumatic incident leaves Ryan and Jim struggling Dwight steps in to offer a reprieve never knowing how their world might change</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jim Halpert/Dwight Schrute, Jim Halpert/Ryan Howard/Dwight Schrute, Ryan Howard/Dwight Schrute</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>As always comments appreciated and be sure to check out my other works. Thanks all:)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jim squirms in the bed, clenching and squeezing his eyes. <br/>
But it's no use, it's all he can see. He climbs from his bed and into Ryan's tucking the smaller frame against his and breathing.</p><p>He doesn't like to think about that day.</p><p> <br/>
---</p><p> <br/>
It was Tuesday. Just a regular blue sky Tuesday. <br/>
Ryan and Jim had been touring the warehouse of a printing company for Dunder Mifflin when the fire happened. <br/>
It had raged, eating up the carpets and devouring the walls like a sentient being of it's own, pouring black smoke and heat from it's claws; the building, far from being up to code, was quickly ravished, several small explosions burst along the way and the two stories above the basement warehouse crumpled like paper. <br/>
There were concerns of toxic fumes that halted digging while proper assement and equipment was brought in. <br/>
In all they spent roughly seventy-two hours buried in rubble thinking they were going to die. </p><p>Dwight had been with the volunteer firefighters when he found them. <br/>
Trapped in a pocket of crushed cement and rebar he had dropped down in with them and spent the next nine hours tending their injuries and soothing their groggy and disoriented minds while his men digged.</p><p> </p><p>Jim felt as if something had broke within him that day, and it was clear Ryan was struggling; both had lost weight and were plagued by nightmares and when Dwight invited them to the farm for a few weeks to recuperate they both accepted, never knowing just how much things would change.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>Dwight sighs, drying his hands on a dish towel. "Eat, Jim." <br/>
"I don't want it," he huffs, keeping his face buried in his arms against the table. <br/>
"Then go find your pajamas while I start the bath. <br/>
He pushes away from the table, stalking down the hall. <br/>
Dwight carries the towel over to wipe Ryan's spaghetti-o chin and lift him from his chair. He's making progress in his PT but it's slow going; his knee was crushed in the accident and walking is hard for him, especially late in the day when he's wearing down.<br/>
He tucks his head against his shoulder. <br/>
"I know you're tired, love. But a nice hot bath first, huh?" He pats his back. </p><p>He helps him sit on the closed toilet lid and starts the bath. "Come on, Jim," he calls. Helping Ryan out of his clothes.<br/>
Jim trudges in and stands glaring.<br/>
He watches Dwight help Ryan into the tub and Dwight can see the internal conflict roll across his face, the longing, the shame, the tears he keeps at bay. Ryan is better able to express his anxieties and upset but Jim struggles with being vulnerable. "Come now, love," he murmurs reaching for the top buttons.<br/>
"I've got you." He kisses his head and slips his shirt off. </p><p>Kneeling beside them he helps them wash their hair. <br/>
Jim stiffens as he brings the wash cloth to his back. <br/>
"Let me help you, Jim," he chides softly. <br/>
"I don't need help." <br/>
"Let daddy do it." Ryan sighs. "It's faster." <br/>
Jim's jaw clenches and he feels a little angry at Ryan's blase attitude, at how open and vulnerable he can be without a second thought while Jim struggles with his pride and it's so irritating that he just- <br/>
He draws his hand back sending a spray of water into Ryan's face, who begins to wail instantly. <br/>
"Jim!" Dwight scolds getting him by the arm and hauling him out. "That was uncalled for." <br/>
He wipes Ryan's face with a dry cloth. "You're alright." <br/>
"Jim's mean!" He shouts. <br/>
"Well you're a baby." Jim sneers coldly. <br/>
Ryan's chin wobbles and he bites his lip sniffing. <br/>
"That's enough, Jim!" Dwight barks. <br/>
"I won't tolerate you making him cry over something he can't help." <br/>
He looks to the floor ashamed. "'m sorry, Ryan," he murmurs. Dwight sighs, leveraging himself from the floor, knees groaning. "I think you're both overtired tonight.<br/>
Let's get your teeth brushed and then off to bed."</p><p>He keeps the spaceship lamp on between their twin beds. Smoothing Ryan's blankets he kisses his head. <br/>
"Sweet dreams, alright?" He tells Jim combing his hair gently. He nods. <br/>
"Goodnight my loves," he says turning the light out.</p><p> <br/>
---</p><p> </p><p>Ryan screams in his sleep. <br/>
Jim sits up frantically in his bed, heart racing as Dwight hurries in. "It's alright," he assures turning on the light. "It's alright." <br/>
"Daddy!" Ryan sobs, lost to his terrors.<br/>
Dwight scoops him up swaying. "There, there, love," he shushes, rubbing his back. <br/>
"You want to come to daddy's bed?"<br/>
He nods sniffing against his shoulder. <br/>
"Jim?" <br/>
Jim scurries from the bed following. <br/>
Dwight gets a fresh nightnight for Ryan, helping him step in and tug his pajamas up; throwing the soiled one away. <br/>
"My brave boy. It's all over. No bad dream can hurt you." </p><p>Once they're settled in he tucks the covers up. <br/>
"Leave lamp on." Ryan says around his thumb. <br/>
"Alright, darling. Close your eyes." <br/>
He looks at Jim, sees the way he's biting at his lip with shining eyes. He cups his head drawing him to his shoulder. "S'alright." He strokes his hair listening to the muffled sobs. "We're all safe." He kisses his head, lacing his fingers through his and placing it on his chest. "Feel that?" <br/>
He nods. <br/>
"See the light from the lamp and brother already dozing?" <br/>
He smiles down at Ryan. <br/>
Jim nods again. <br/>
"You're not there anymore, baby. You're home."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dwight groans, as the sun creeps through the blinds lighting on the backs of his eyelids. <br/>
Stretching, he feels his back pop and sits up to swipe his glasses from the nightstand. </p><p>It's the second Friday of the month and that's therapy day for his boys, Ryan in PT working on his mobility and Jim with his psychiatrist working through the memories that haunt his mind and the feelings he can't shake.</p><p> </p><p>Shuffling down the hall to the room he remade for them he sticks his head in flipping the light on.<br/>
"Let's go, boys."</p><p>Jim glares at him, tugging the blankets over his head. <br/>
He's well aware of what today is and he hates it. <br/>
Hates 'opening up', remembering the heat, the smoke, the panic and falling debris. <br/>
Hates remembering Ryan's pained moans slipping further and further from coherency while he lied through his teeth about everything being okay. And he hates today too because it always causes Ryan more physical pain and then it's harder to draw that smile of his out, and if Ryan's not okay than what is he?</p><p>"C'mon, Jim. I'm not playing today," Dwight says, pulling the covers off. "Breakfast is on the table. Go."</p><p>Knowing there's no way around it he slinks from the bed and down the hall.</p><p>Moving to Ryan's bed, he grips his shoulder rolling him over.</p><p>He blinks up at him confused.</p><p>"Did you even hear me?" He asks, bemused.</p><p>He shakes his head, sitting up slowly.</p><p>"Breakfast. Let's go. Then you have PT today, alright?"</p><p>The lack of whining surprises him but he doesn't want to push. <br/>
Helping him out to the table he smiles at <br/>
Jim dutifully eating his oatmeal, even though it's not his most favorite; he combs his fingers through his hair.</p><p>"Good boy," he murmurs kissing his head.</p><p>Jim blushes, ducking his head and shrugging his shoulders, he swirls his spoon around and says nothing. <br/>
Dwight gives his back a pat, glancing over at Ryan sitting listlessly staring off into space.</p><p>"Ryan," he says getting his attention. "Eat."</p><p>He shakes his head pushing the bowl away.</p><p>Sighing Dwight takes it. There's no use in arguing and besides, they're on a timeline. <br/>
He grabs a meal replacement shake from the fridge, anything to keep calories in him. <br/>
"Drink your shake at least," he insists. <br/>
"Jim, if you're finished put your bowl in the sink and I'll come help you with your clothes."</p><p>Jim flushes crimson at the tremor in his hands that make buttoning his jeans near impossible, but he does his best to swallow the anger he feels over it. It wouldn't change anything anyway.</p><p> </p><p>Once everyone's dressed they head out to the car, Ryan still nursing his shake. "Hurry and finish that," Dwight says, buckling him in and tossing his duffel of clean clothes in the floorboard for after PT.</p><p> </p><p>He looks at him in the rearview mirror as he gets on the highway, it's not like him to be so lethargic.</p><p> </p><p>"Stay by the car," Dwight instructs and Jim bites his lip to keep from rolling his eyes.<br/>
But Dwight knows he's more distracted and absent minded on these days and isn't about to let him roam the crowded parking lot on his own.<br/>
"You want your walker or crutches?" He asks Ryan, opening his door.<br/>
He whines slinking in his seat, squinting at the sun.<br/>
"Walker or crutches?"<br/>
He holds his arms out.<br/>
And even though he doesn't have as much pride as Jim, it still surprises him that he'd want to be carried inside.<br/>
"Alright, big boy," he groans lifting him up. <br/>
"Stay beside me," he reminds as they make their way across the parking lot. <br/>
"I know," Jim mumbles kicking a rock.</p><p>The blast of air conditioning hits them in the face as they enter the lobby.</p><p>"Good morning, Mr. Schrute. Ryan. Jim." The receptionist greets when she sees them. "Mrs. Holliday is ready for you, Jim you can head on back."</p><p>He casts a pleading look to Dwight.<br/>
"Go on," he says giving his neck a squeeze.</p><p>Once the door closes he walks Ryan back to the physical therapy room.</p><p>The assistant, Carol, smiles at him indulgently. "You know, he really should be using his crutches."</p><p>"I'm aware. He's having a rough morning I don't mind giving him a break."</p><p>Her smile stiffens a bit. "Well, let's get him to the bench, shall we? Dr. Pryor wants to start with stretching."</p><p>He helps him on the bench. <br/>
"I'll be back in one hour, alright."</p><p>"Okay."</p><p>He gives his leg a pat and steps into the hall to wait.</p><p> </p><p>Jim joins him after forty-five minutes.</p><p>"Your session over already?"</p><p>He nods, shifting in the chair, tipping his head back against the wall. "Had to pick her kid up from school. Some kind of emergency or something. Is Ryan finished yet?"</p><p>"Almost," he says, spotting Carol jogging down the hall.</p><p>"Mr. Schrute?"</p><p>"Yes?" <br/>
He says, standing, heart starting to race. He's fallen or something, damaged the pins in his leg or-</p><p>"Ryan's throwing up," she informs.</p><p>Jim jumps up running down the hall with Dwight on his heels.</p><p> </p><p>He sits on the bench, pale and trembling, breakfast shake down his chest. One look at his eyes and Dwight can tell he's not with them right now.</p><p>"Ryan?" Jim begs shaking his shoulder.</p><p>Dwight moves him out the way.<br/>
"Sweetheart?" He touches his neck, shocked at the heat rolling off him.</p><p>"Ryan?" Jim says, becoming more distressed.</p><p>"Jim," Dwight murmurs quietly. "Go get his bag from the waiting room, alright."</p><p>He blinks at him.</p><p>"We need to get him out of this soiled shirt, alright. Can you do that for me?"</p><p>"Yes," he whispers, still watching Ryan.</p><p>"Go on, then."</p><p>He turns back to Ryan tugging his shirt over his head, wiping his chin with the hem.</p><p>"You're alright," he whispers wrapping an arm around his shoulders.</p><p>"Would you like us to call someone from the hospital over to have a look at him?"<br/>
Dr. Pryor offers.</p><p>"No. Thank you, we'll be alright." The last thing he needs is memories of being in the hospital stirred up.</p><p>Jim brings his bag back, helping Dwight get him in a clean shirt.</p><p>"Can we go home now?" Ryan whimpers curling into him.</p><p>Breathing a sigh of relief that he's at least coherent he lifts him up. "Yes, let's get you home."</p><p> </p><p>Jim sits with him in the backseat, keeping an arm around him the whole time.</p><p> </p><p>He's asleep against Jim when they pull up the drive.</p><p>"Here, let me get him." Dwight says reaching to lift him out but Jim's arms lock around him.<br/>
"Jim," he says sternly, snapping him out of it and he reluctantly let's him take him.</p><p>He carries him inside and gets him some medicine and settled in his bed with some Gatorade in a bottle before going to look for Jim.</p><p>He finds him hunched on the porch steps biting his nail.</p><p>"Hey," he says gently, taking a seat beside him.<br/>
He's shocked when turns pressing himself against his chest.<br/>
"He's fine, Jim," he assures wrapping his arms around him squeezing.<br/>
"I know today is stirring up all kinds of bad memories for the two of you."</p><p>"You'll make it better," he says against his neck.</p><p>"Sure. Of course." He says after a minute. Touched and a little wary at the trust he's decided to put in him.</p><p> </p><p>They're having a quite dinner when Ryan calls from the room.</p><p>"Daddy!"</p><p>"Go get your pajamas on, hmm?" He says, kissing Jim's head, going to check on Ryan.</p><p> </p><p>"I threw up again," he wails as Dwight steps in the dim room.</p><p>"Oh, honey," he sighs. "Let's get you in the shower."</p><p>"No, I don't want to my knee hurts!" He sobs.</p><p>"Daddy will come with you, alright darling?" He smooths his hair.</p><p>He continues to sob as Dwight strips him of his clothes and carries him to the bathroom.</p><p> </p><p>He holds him against his chest, keeping pressure off his knee while he bathes him.</p><p>"Alright, all done." He kisses his temple, helping him from the tub.</p><p>He gets him dried off; deciding to forgo pajamas for the night he pulls out an overnight for him instead.</p><p>"I don't need that." Ryan pouts.</p><p>But he knows with the degree of fever he's running and the amount of pain he's in because of his knee there's no way he's going to be able to get to the bathroom in time during the night.<br/>
"For tonight." He says brooking no argument.</p><p> </p><p>He lies against Dwight's chest, limp and listless. Every now and then a shiver will shake his spine in a chill brought on by his fever; Dwight rubs his fevered back kissing his head.</p><p>Jim brings him his own stuffy; crawling into bed with them, he reaches over poking him in the nose with it, letting him take it. Ryan gives him such a bewildered look before a small smile twitches at the corner of his mouth and he hugs it close.<br/>
Jim smiles leaning over to kiss his cheek.</p><p>Dwight ruffles his hair. He knows how much it means to Jim. When they were being loaded in the ambulance after the accident Jim was upset at Ryan being taken from him; he was delirious and fighting everyone. Once they had him strapped down one of the medics pushed this little bear they keep on hand for frightened children in his hand giving him something soft to squeeze and clutch, and though he'd never admit to having an attachment to it Dwight knows he sleeps with it under his pillow.</p><p>"That was very sweet, darling." He says pecking his head.<br/>
Jim ducks his head embarrassed but snuggles against his side anyway.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Ryan wakes blearily in the night as Dwight gently untapes his nightnight.</p><p>"Shh, it's alright, darling. Let daddy change you." He folds it down between his legs, gently wiping him clean. <br/>
"Lift up, sweetheart." He pats his hip tucking a dry nighty beneath him and fastening it.</p><p>Ryan doesn't try to fight him, laying limp and blinking dazedly.</p><p>Dwight feels his forehead, pressing a kiss to his feverish brow.<br/>
He whines beneath him. "What do you need, darling?"</p><p>"Paci!" He crys.</p><p>Paci? They haven't used that since right after the accident when he was delirious and insensible with pain. He kept wailing saying his mouth was dry and he could taste soot and ash. Dwight had given it to him to suck on during the night to keep his mouth moist without worry about him choking on it, but afterwards he had never asked for it again.</p><p>He debates if he should really let him have it or not.</p><p>"Pease, 'addy!" He screams suddenly, startlingly Jim from sleep and him with the intensity of his upset.</p><p>"Hey, hey, hey," he soothes, digging in the nightstand for it.</p><p>"Daddy has it right here, love. Breathe now." <br/>
He presses it in his mouth rocking with him until he calms.</p><p>Watching his eyes blink slower and slower, Jim already back dozing, he closes his own eyes; content in the knowledge that his boys are safe.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dwight watches his boys sleep, smiling.<br/>
He's been so used to taking care of people that ever since Mose has moved on to help his uncle after his wife's passing he's been bereft of someone to look after, until these two.</p><p>Ryan has rolled over to his side of the bed, paci on the pillow beside him in favor of his thumb tucked neatly in his mouth.<br/>
Dwight gently brushes his rosy cheek. "Good morning," he murmurs stroking his brow, watching sleepy eyes blink open. "Think you could manage some breakfast today?"</p><p>He nods slowly. "Un go ouside, 'addy."</p><p>"You want to go outside?" He laughs. "What would you do outside, hmm? Work on your and Jim's garden?"</p><p>He nods, inhaling deeply and stretching.<br/>
Dwight tries not to grimace at the slight concave of his tummy between his hips and ribs that he could probably count every last one of should he wish to. His doctor's have assured him he's doing everything right, only the next exam will determine. He doesn't want to keep forcing him on a scale here, worried it could cause anxiety or more eating issues for him.</p><p>The garden had been his idea to give them something to do to decompress, surprisingly they've both seemed to have taken to it.</p><p>"We'll see, doll. Let daddy take your temperature."<br/>
He slips the the thermometer under his tongue.</p><p>"What should we make for breakfast you think?" He asks stroking his arm.</p><p>"My shake," he mumbles around the thermometer.</p><p>He bites back a sigh. "Don't you want something a little more substantial," he asks slipping it from his mouth, still low grade, but much better.</p><p>"No," he whines.</p><p>"Some toast? I'll let you slice the fruit."</p><p>He wavers.</p><p>"We'll surprise Jim, how about that?" He asks peeking at Jim still sleeping.</p><p>Ryan thinks for a minute.<br/>
"Okay," he agrees.</p><p> </p><p>Dwight gets him set up on a stool at the counter with a butter knife while he toasts the bread.</p><p>Once finished he goes to wake Jim.</p><p> </p><p>Gently he cards his fingers through his hair kissing his cheek.</p><p>"Mmm?"</p><p>"Time to wake up, darling," he says, rubbing his back.<br/>
"Brother made you breakfast."</p><p>He rolls over scrubbing a hand down his face.</p><p>"How do you feel this morning?" He asks touching his head.</p><p>"Fine," he says staring at the ceiling.</p><p>He's so stubborn.</p><p>"Come on then," Dwight sighs.</p><p>He follows him out, coming behind Ryan to touch his neck.</p><p>"Ow! Your hands are cold!" He squirms whining.</p><p>He rolls his eyes and grabs a plate.</p><p>"Jim?"</p><p>"Hmm?"</p><p>"Wanna do our garden?"</p><p>He looks to Dwight.</p><p>"For a little while then you need to rest some more."</p><p>"Jim?"</p><p>"Sure, ry."</p><p> </p><p>Dwight leaves them to it. Returning to the house to get some work done on his own.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>He glances at the clock on his desk wondering how he let time get away from him.<br/>
Standing he stretches, pushing his chair back and goes to check on them.</p><p> </p><p>He spots Ryan from the porch.<br/>
Sitting beside a row of freshly turned dirt with his legs straight out in front of him. Every now and then he does a kind of crab crawl, shuffling himself backwards and dragging his right leg to plant more seeds.<br/>
Those jeans are going to be ruined he thinks, shaking his head fondly, walking over to meet him.</p><p>"Hey, bub." He kneels beside him.<br/>
"I thought Jim was helping you with that?"</p><p>He shrugs. "Jim's mad at me."</p><p>"Why?"</p><p>"I don't know."</p><p>Leaning back on his heels he scans the yard. "Where is he?"</p><p>"Pond."</p><p> </p><p>Pushing weeping willows away he carefully makes his way down the slope.<br/>
A dirt worn path in the grass leads to the bank of a small stocked pond where he finds him, not so much skipping stones as aggressively hurling them.</p><p>"Gonna scare the fish away."</p><p>"So."</p><p>"Ryan says you're mad at him."</p><p>"Maybe," he mumbles hurling another rock.</p><p>"Look, I know you both have different ways of expressing things-</p><p>"He's always crying!"</p><p>"Why does that bother you, huh?"</p><p>He shrugs.</p><p>"It's okay to cry, Jim. It's okay for you to cry." He touches his shoulder.</p><p>"Ryan's the little baby," he sniffs angrily.</p><p>"Ryan's not a baby because he crys, Jim. I want you knock that off right now, alright. That's how he expresses his pain and gets it out, it helps him. It would help you too."</p><p>He looks out across the water, adams apple bobbing.<br/>
"He didn't cry then."</p><p>A beat of silence.</p><p>"I don't follow?"</p><p>"In, in the cave in, in the fire. He didn't cry."</p><p>Ah.</p><p>"It scares you when he crys."</p><p>His fingers clench around the rock in his hand.</p><p>"Jim, I know you don't believe this now but you're both going to be okay. It's important you don't bottle all your emotions up, you need to feel more than just anger."</p><p>"Ryan can barely walk! I can't even completely dress myself, and all I see when I close my eyes is smoke and flames and falling cement why shouldn't I be angry!" He screams, chest heaving in the silence.</p><p>He flinches as Dwight reaches out, but he gets him, tugging him against his chest.<br/>
He continues to struggle.<br/>
"Stop, Jim. Let it out."<br/>
He gives him a little shake, squeezing his neck.</p><p>It starts as a sniffle, hot tears against his shoulder before his legs buckle and he's sobbing openly against Dwight's chest.</p><p>"I've got you," he murmurs. "I've got you."</p><p>He holds him for a long time letting him cry it out.</p><p> </p><p>When he's been quite for several minutes and his shoulders no longer shake Dwight carefully leans back, cupping his face, tenderly stroking his cheek.<br/>
"I'm proud of you, Jim. I know this is hard for you and I'm going to be here to help and take care of you. If you'll let me."</p><p>He stares in his eyes for a long moment.</p><p>"Daddy, Jim!" Ryan hollers breaking the silence.</p><p>Dwight grins. "Guess he's done with outside."</p><p>Jim wipes his face returning the smile and they push themselves up to go help him inside.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p>Later that night Jim helps get Ryan ready for bed. Slicking his damp hair back so it curls beneath his ears and slipping on his batman thermals, which even he has to admit look adorable on him, he carries him out to the living room where Dwight has put Toy Story on for them to watch.</p><p>"Ready?" He asks, shaking Ryan's meal replacement in a bottle.</p><p>"Yep." Jim says, helping Ryan to the couch.</p><p>Dwight sits between them handing the bottle over to Ryan and offering one with a sipper top to Jim. He knows what he's asking with this, is he willing to be vulnerable with him? and let him take care of him when he needs it?</p><p>He reaches slowly for the cup, hesitantly tucking the spout between his lips.</p><p>Dwight strokes his hair.<br/>
"There's my big boy," he murmurs kissing his temple.</p><p>He leans against him tiredly, letting him stroke his stomach.<br/>
"Warm milk feel good in your tummy, baby?"</p><p>"Yes, daddy."</p>
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